In between arranged mountain rock lined edges, containing a mini-suburban woodland, small solar lamps begin to light up.  I don’t have fireflies in Colorado, so these are my prize.

The temperature is this perfect 70 degrees after the loveliest of days.  The cover is on the pool and I am hidden under lush Aspen with baby-blue skies above as the sun sets.  The orange glow faded to pale pink and the light is losing its’ strength, softening by the minute.

The stock and carnations in the nearby pots are aromatic, but like always, nothing perfumes the air quite the purple petunia.  Not a bug in sight.

I love Colorado.  Could it be any better?

{Sandy-the-Dog does not appreciate eveningtide and is waiting to be back inside}

Then suddenly, Dave flips a switch and twinkle lights everywhere and backlit shrubbery sing the reply ~ YES!  So pretty!